


That elusive place you're searching for

by Bananas45



Series: Bad ambassador [1]
Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Alex becomes an Assassin, Assassination Plot(s), Assassins, Canon-Typical Violence, Flashbacks, Gun Violence, Heavy Angst, M/M, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 03:39:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14991926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bananas45/pseuds/Bananas45
Summary: “Croatia attracts your types...” The man said. “Are you looking for work? Bit young for me...But I’m a little desperate at the moment”Alex knew instantly what ‘those types’ were. He’d run into ‘those types’ enough in his short lived career. Contract killers. Assassins. The type of person Alex promised himself he’d never become. Ruthless and cold. Calculative and detached. Warm skinned with blonde hair and piercing eyes and a gentle demeanour under silken muscle- Stop. Most importantly dead.A lot had happened in the last 48 hours but it could be summed up rather fast. Alex turned 18 and was fired.





	That elusive place you're searching for

**Author's Note:**

> I recently started reading Alex Rider again...No idea why! But after doing so I needed to write this! Forgive my messiness because I wrote it in about 48 hours. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

A lot had happened in the last 48 hours but it could be summed up rather fast. Alex turned 18 and was fired. To be honest, Alex hadn’t been surprised but he had been angry. Angry because he’d missed his GCSEs because he’d been in Bengal and angry because he flunked his A-levels because he was in Teran. He was completely unqualified for anything. He hadn’t bothered applying to University because in his head he’d just start working for Mi6. He’d been naive. A character trait he thought he’d have overcome by this point. He was turned away, told that they couldn’t legitimise hiring an undertrained 18 year old. He’d wanted to scream that he wasn’t undertrained but he’d worked with these people long enough to know that resistance was futile and minds had probably already been made. It came down to three key factors; One, It was Nepotism to give Alex a job on the bases of his father and his uncles merits. Two, the work he’d done had been illegal and strictly off the record. Three, He was young and unstable. He’d wanted to argue on everyone of those points but realised with a horrible jolt that if he opened his mouth he might actually cry. They spoke of rules and used terms Alex never heard and the conversation ended with Alex feeling somehow in the wrong. 

He’d left bereft and betrayed and with a clouded mind taken out all the money in his back account and left the country. He wondered if they’d chase him, try to stop him. He thought he’d be more of an asset. He was wrong. Maybe that had been the thing that hurt the most.

Falling into unsavoury work happened all to easily. He’d travelled with Sabina on her gap year. She’d gone globe trotting with two friends who found Alex hilarious. Alex was hilarious because he had no inhibition. It wasn’t that he got drunk or that he was wild. It was that he was insane.  
He scaled buildings and jumped off cliffs into lakes with a unfazed shrug that made Sabina flush and the two boys scream with delight. The phrase ‘No, Alex!’ became a staple of their travels. Whether it be ‘No, Alex’ as he crawled through a storm drain to get a Sabina’s fallen wallet or a ‘No, Alex’ as he climbed back in the hostel window to collect the key that had locked them out to begin with.  
It was easy to forget that he was hurting when he was making others laugh. It was easy to forget MI6 when he was eating in a bar in Tokyo or rock climbing in South America. It was easy to forget until the night times. So Alex took to not sleeping. Fretful half naps here and there maybe but nothing that lasted long enough for the dreams to start but over time it became harder to forget- not just at night but through the day. Keith and Jeremy had started to ask about his future, they’d all begun to talk about their plans. Alex had none, he had nothing. Infact, Alex didn’t even have a family or a place to stay or a job or any grades-  
He had to stop that spiral, that terrifying spiral that made him feeling sickeningly helpless in a way he’d never, ever felt before. Bereft and adrift was how he found himself in Croatia. It was the last stop on their travels, Keith would head to his new work in Australia and Jeremy would head off to some cooking school. Sabina would go to Oxford and Alex would- Alex would think of something.  
They went to a yacht show, Croatia was famous for them, the most expensive ones in the world apparently. The others had gone off to booze and have fun and Alex found himself at the end off a wooden pier alone. The sun was balanced between two islands, precariously sliding between them and painting the sky in vivid pinks. He wouldn’t have noticed the person come up beside him if he wasn’t trained to but he’d turned before he could help himself.  
The man was Italian, in his fifties but looking older. What was left of his thick black hair was slicked back with sweat or grease or both and he stared at Alex from sunglasses that perched on his huge tanned nose. His white shirt, expensive but not well kept, was unbuttoned unsuitably low for a man his age and chest hair seemed to explode out from under it. He smelt so strongly of cigar smoke that Alex’s nose almost curled.  
“You look like a broken man” He said, accent heavy but with that air of international that told Alex he was well travelled. Alex laughed, soft and sad and sat back down to dangle his feet in the warm adriatic waters.  
“What makes you say that?” he asked, shielding his eyes from the setting sun.  
The man hauled up his trousers and sat down beside Alex, he heaved as he lowered himself and his beer belly jiggle as he landed.  
“There are only two things in this world that make a man look like you do”  
Alex shifted a little, he wasn’t scared, not yet at least. He’d faced worse than fat talkative Italians but he was itchy for a fight- for anything.  
“Oh yeah?” He said anyway, an indulgment more than anything.  
“Your woman or your country” The man stared for a moment. “You look to young to be heartbroken. So I’ll go with the latter” the man paused for a short and bitten laugh. “Though I’d say you look too young to be betrayed by your country too”  
Alex stared for a moment, blood slowly running cold as he braced himself.  
“Who sent you?” He said, slow and nervous as he stood.  
The man laughed, harder this time. “No one sent me, Bambino. I just have an eye for talent”  
Alex knew better than to question that but he squared his jaw and crossed his arms over his loose blue shirt. His flip flop had shifted off his foot and the sun scorched decking with burning the sole of his foot but he’s was too glued to the floor to sort it.  
“So who did you so wrong?” The man asked, standing up too and brushing off his beige suit trousers. “You seem to young for the army-”  
“You can join up at sixteen in england” Alex snapped.  
“And yet you don’t seem like the average soldier...” The man circled a little. “I know special forces when I see it but you don’t get there in” He looked Alex over. “Two years.”  
“I was good” Alex tried.  
“No one is that good. How young when they recruited you?” The voice said it with such sure certainty, like he’d seen cases like Alex hundreds of times.  
“Fourteen” Alex said, though it came out a whisper.  
“Trained?”  
“Yes” Alex said. “Since birth”  
The Italian whistled. “I didn’t think the Englishmen went in for that sort of thing”  
“I didn’t either” Alex muttered.  
“And you outstayed your welcome, Hm? Not so young anymore”  
Alex closed his eyes but he didn’t answer. His jaw was clenched so tightly it was making his head ring.  
“Croatia attracts your types...” The man said. “Are you looking for work? Bit young for me...But I’m a little desperate at the moment”  
Alex knew instantly what ‘those types’ were. He’d run into ‘those types’ enough in his short lived career. Contract killers. Assassins. The type of person Alex promised himself he’d never become. Ruthless and cold. Calculative and detached. Warm skinned with blonde hair and piercing eyes and a gentle demeanour under silken muscle- Stop. Most importantly dead.  
Something stopped him from talking, maybe it was the memory of a man long gone, or a insatiable need for a thrill or a desperation for money but something made him not amend the man.  
“What do you need done?” 

 

The man was called Alessandro, although Alex suspected that might not be his real name but he explained he was a ‘dealer’ and had winked when Alex had asked what in. Apparently it was a lot.  
Within seven hours Alex had said goodbye to Sabina with a promise he’d be safe and left for Montenegro. it was a hit on another crime boss and Alex found himself in a five star hotel room above a casino in his grubby beach shorts and unchanged shirt.  
Alessandro bustled into his room with a suitcase in hand.  
“My clothes” he said as he noticed the black tux Alessandro had changed into.  
“Eh, it doesn’t matter. You won't be inside anyway!”  
There was a bumbling kindness to Alessandro that was disarmingly charming and Alex felt as though he could trust him just a little.  
“Gun is in there. I don’t know about guns” He shrugged deeply, hands thrown above his head as he poured himself a drink from the well stocked mini fridge. “I’m told it’ll get the job done. Ay, who am I to say it won't”  
Alex just nodded and looked at the case with a mild amount of regret but with a odd and very sudden detachment. He was going to kill a man and somehow that was okay. Maybe this was how Yassen had felt. The thought send him spiralling. They were the same now.  
“Oi oi, Alexandro” he was getting fingers snapped in his face and he came back to with a look from Alessandro.  
There was an odd and pregnant pause between them.  
“You’ve never actually killed anyone, have you” Alessandro said, harsh but not angry.  
“Not like that” Alex said. “Not for money” Suddenly he was terrified. Would Alessandro be angry? Kill him even? for lying like that it seemed reasonable for a crime lord.  
Alessandro nodded, lips pursed and breathed in heavily through his nose. For a moment, Alex thought he saw something in the man’s chocolate eyes but it passed before it could be identified.  
“It’s just the same as video games! But you’ll come out half a million better off!” He said with an ear piercing laugh before rubbing his hands together and heading off.  
“You’re not angry” Alex stated, staring past Alessandro to the print of a Klint hanging on the wall.  
“Not really, no” He said and then took a step forward. “You’ll know when I’m angry at you, Alex” 

The air was warm but Alex felt cold. He scaled the opposite building with practised ease, slinging himself through fire stairs and up to the roof. From there he had a clear and direct line to a huge balcony window. Through it, Alex could just make out figures around a table. It was a private poker game and his target was at the table. A tremble ran through him. His target. His kill. He felt sick.  
Assembling the gun was easy and calmed the tremble that was yet to ease off. He swallowed as he lay on his belly, lining up the scope with his eye and resting his finger along the trigger, just in case he pulled it. Through the scope everything was much clearer. He could see Alessandro, laughing at the head off the table and arranging a meager pile of poker chips. Then again, Alessandro wasn’t there to play poker. He was playing a whole different game.  
Alex’s target shifted slightly but not enough to throw off Alex’s aim. He was a slender man, with pale skin and a fox like face, severe cheekbones, hard eyes and although Alex knew well that nothing was black and white, he could trick himself into believing this nameless man deserved to die. His plot may not have been world domination but to Alex the stakes felt just as high. Maybe he was was out of practice. There was a pause and the wind ruffled locks of blonde into Alex’s eyes. He shook it aside and refocused, feeling his heart hammering through his chest. What if he was caught? Even worse, what if he wasn’t? Would Mi6 care that their agent had become a killer? The thoughts ran circles through Alex’s head as he curled his finger around the trigger but with a sharp breath he managed to quiet them. He closed his eyes, opened them and pulled. For a moment he felt as though he was asleep, freshly woken from a dream before the world refocused. He didn’t dare look down the scope but he remembered seeing the man crumple like something from a video game. It was enough to know he’d done a good job.  
Alessandro had told him not to return to the room but to meet him in more local hotel, smaller and less posh. As Alex made his way there, with the gun tucked away into a large briefcase, he felt as though he was watching himself from some tucked away place in the back of his head. He felt, however, for the first time in months a real sense of accomplishment. That, in turn, made him feel sickened with himself and the torrid emotions he was feeling. Beneath it all, easier to ignore but difficult not to recognise, Alex felt mind numbingly lonely. He couldn’t speak to Sabina again, not now, not after this. He’d put her in too much danger and besides her, well, Alex didn’t have anyone else left.  
He turned sharply into an alleyway as he was hit with a wave of nausea and dry heaved violently as he leaned against the cold stone wall, bracing himself. He wasn’t sick though, just shook and trembled, coughing and gagging. The street light painted the blurring cobble underneath him a putrid orange and Alex felt for a second like he might pass out. He was overwhelmed, going into shock yet somehow still managed with a jolt of his shoulder to stand back up straight. He felt exhausted and prayed that his sickness was a mixture of displacement and sleep deprivation and god forbid not guilt.  
The hotel, when Alex finally got there, was an old little tavern and he felt as though he turned every local head as he slunk through the bar, realising only once he got to the stairs that he’d lost a flip flop on the climb down from the roof. The bottom of his foot was bleeding from his walk and he absently wondered if he’d left blood on the carpet. He hadn’t. He made his way up to the room they were meant to meet in and knocked on the door softly.  
Alessandro burst through it and slung a large and hairy arm around Alex.  
“Aye! You did it! You did it! So easy, huh? What did I say?” Alessandro was shouting and Alex nodded along with a slow and uncurling smile. “So good! I’ll transfer the money tomorrow.”  
Alex blinked. Off course, he’d be payed. Money. Into his empty, empty bank account. He almost lit up with joy.  
Him and Alessandro chatted until Alex’s eyes began to droop and Alessandro began to yawn. A number was exchanged and Alex was given an burner phone and Alessandro patted him on the shoulder as he walked Alex to the door.  
“So good, meeting reliable young guys like you” Alessandro said.  
“Good meeting business partners too” Alex answered, letting his hand be shook and trying not to let his bone deep exhaustion and fear show. Alessandro paused.  
“So could you be in Dubai next week?” 

 

That was how it begun. Job’s rolled in fast, first from Alessandro and then from Alessandro’s friends. In under three months Alex travelled from Dubai to Cambodia, then to America, then to Switzerland. The job’s were always easy and he was surprised by how little he was stopped or searched or even noticed. It helped being trained as a spy. It helped being trained from birth. Alex was preoccupied enough that he didn’t notice his crippling loneliness. The sleepless nights were a problem but usually jobs were in the evening and besides, the worst dreams only happened when he slept in a bed. So he slept on planes and trains and let himself feed of the buzz of travel and evasion of hiding. The idea that he would burn out was something he feared but if he was going to burn out he thought he probably would have done it already. The sad truth was that killing people was actually much easier than being a spy. There were no rules, the pay was better and no one seemed to want to kill him. 

He was In Laos when that changed. He was in Laos when everything came crumbling down. Alessandro was paying him to oversee a movement of drugs, worth about as much as Laos’s annual GDP. Alessandro was explicit that ALex didn’t fuck up. Which should have been a warning sign as Alessandro was never usually the type of man to get angry.  
He was sat on the back of truck, gun holstered in his cargo shorts, trying in vain to swat away the insects and escape the clawing heat. It was beginning to rain heavy fat droplets onto them and Alex’s navy t-shirt began to cling to him like second skin. The bright, blistering sun gave way quickly to heavy rain clouds that made the day seem instantly like night. The air shifted and not just because of the weather. The trucks had stopped. Alex jumped down from where he’d been sat on the back of the pick up and moved to the front of the truck, chapping twice on the window.  
“What’s the hold up?” He said in his limited Lao.  
The driver only shrugged and lit a crumpled cigarette, rubbing dirt off his skin using the rain water. Alex sighed but left- ignoring the mutter of ‘fucking kid’ he heard. He was use to it by now. The air was oppressive now and thunder clapped somewhere far off. Something was wrong.  
He felt it before he saw it, the air seemed to part in a way Alex was now very accustomed to and with a very attuned sixth sense Alex threw himself to the ground in time to miss the bullet that flew passed where his head would be. He crawled, legs now caked in mud behind the truck and pulled his own gun. It was a sniper, somewhere close. Close enough that they could, potentially come after him. Regardless, Alex begun to run. He threw himself into the compound, vaulting a fence and zigzagging through empty, abandoned buildings. The dusty dirt, hours earlier perfect kicking up clouds under foot, had congealed into coagulated clumps of mud and Alex struggled to stay upright as he skidded round corner, wiping thick monsoon rain out his and replacing it with the dirt from his forearms. He knew he was being followed but he had no time to look back, he had to find cover. He had to-  
A bullet grazed his calf and he gasped in pain, his run becoming a lope. He ran towards a building, rain obscuring his vision and adrenaline coursing through his veins like a high speed train. Another shot but this time it missed. He could hear footsteps, steady and unrelenting coming towards him. Another shot. It grazed his rib and arm but the shock off balanced him enough that he fell to the ground with a splash. He lay still, hand on his gun but otherwise looking like the shot landed. He felt the presence crouch, lean closer. That’s when he struck. He spun round onto his back, driving a knee into the asaliants chest and holding the gun up.  
“Alex”  
It was gentle, so gentle. Admonishing and chiding yet so unrelentingly cold. The rain and the shock made it hard to focus but Alex would no that voice from anywhere.  
“You’re...You” Alex tried, although his words caught. He held the gun true and steady even if his hands were beginning to shake. “You…”  
Piercing blue eyes held his and he found he couldn’t look away. Yassen Gregorovich, the very same one who Alex had dreamt off, fantasised about, hated and loathed for years, who he watched die - who he saw die- was here, in front of him, alive.  
“I don’t understand” Alex blinked the rain water out his eye and watched, fascinated as a droplet ran off the tip of Yassen’s nose.  
“You have a very high price on your head now” Yassen said, his tone was unreadable but he was tense, like a panther, calm but ready. He took him a moment to process the words.  
“You’re here to kill me?” Alex breathed, the notion forcing all the air out his lungs. Yassen managed a half shrug, balanced over Alex as he was and with a gun pointed at his chest.  
“I took the contract” Was all he said in response. Alex wrinkled his nose and shook his head to get the droplets out his eyes.  
“You took a bullet” Alex said, angry now, he thrusts the gun up a little. “That’s what you did! And then you died!”  
He sounded much too emotional and Yassen’s eyebrow raised a little.  
“You’re a killer now too” He said slowly. “Like me”  
Alex flinched like he’d been hit and let his finger slide out the trigger hold, although his grip didn’t lessen. Yassen’s pale eyebrows drew together and it dawned on Alex that the face he was making was disappointment.  
“You’re...You’re not seriously angry with me?” Alex barked. “You’re an idiot if you think this was my choice”  
“I can be bad judge of character” Yassen said softly. “And I never knew you that well, little Alex”  
Alex clenched his jaw and forced himself to smirk. “Well, you told me to leave Mi6. I took your advice”  
Yassen’s smile was tight. “This wasn’t quite what I had in mind”  
The conversational tone made Alex’s resolve crack. Yassen- the kind and soft one from his dreams, who could sweep him away and make everything better- seemed to be here. His therapist had told him it made sense, Yassen embodied the worst and best of Alex’s life. Yassen was the perfect dichotomy. He took and he gave equally selflessly. It had been impossible, at fourteen, with hormones and a desire to be wanted, not to fall for a man who would, against all inclination and odds, protect him. Alex always forgot that the same man seemed to prepared not to protect him with the same ease  
“How many now?” Yassen leaned forward, but there was nothing vindictive in his tone. “What’s your kill count”  
Alex paused, a flush making it’s way across his cheeks at Yassen’s proximity.  
“Only ten”  
“Ten?” Yassen repeated and this time his shock was clear. “You’ve only been active a few months-”  
Alex sat up, pushing Yassen back with the tip of the gun he felt as though he couldn’t use anymore.  
“Shut up! How do you know that?” He shook his head in confusion and tried not to be put off by Yassen’s unshakable calm.  
“I’ve checked up on you now and again” Yassen said, blinking slowly.  
“And you never thought once about telling me you were alive?” Alex almost screamed, the rain caught in his mouth, plastered his hair to his forehead and hid his sweat, masked his fear. He was almost grateful. “Never once! Do you know what it’s been like for me? After-” His throat caught and he closed his eyes for the briefest moment. Yassen didn’t move. “I hate you” He finished softly.  
Yassen smiled. “I believe you”  
“You have nothing to say?” Alex snarled, desperate for something, anything.  
“I have a job to do” Yassen said and the finality of his voice made Alex lookup. He was going to die here, at Yassen’s hand, right now. That’s what the man’s face said. It seemed fitting, that he should come back from the dead only to kill Alex.  
It was a mixture of training, anger, a feral and selfish need to survive and a new found ability to just pull a trigger that made Alex fire in that moment. Yassen looked, for just a moment, shocked. That, or Alex was watching his own emotions reflected in Yassen’s widened eyes. Whether they were shocked by the fact Alex had shot or at what had happened next, Alex was unsure.  
He missed. He missed at point blank, with Yassen seemingly unarmed and with deadly intent. He missed the easiest shot in the world. The bullet left them both reeling from the noise but Yassen recovered faster and had Alex pinned in seconds. His arms lay under Yassen’s legs, outstretched and taking all of Yassen’s weight as his knees dug into Alex’s biceps. His head was hauled out the muddy puddle it had landed in by his hair and he felt the blunt pressure of a barrel pressed to the back of his skull.  
“Please!” He tried, a desperate and cheap trick he’d begun to use a little too often, playing to his youth in a way that made him embarrassed when he was younger. “Please it was an accident! My finger slipped! Yassen please-”  
The grip didn’t relent.  
“You’re not a child anymore, Alex”  
The words turned his blood to ice as he tried to work out what Yassen could mean. Then it dawned on him; he was 18 now. He was fair game to Yassen. He was no child. He lurched to escape but found he was so deftly pinned that he couldn’t even move, could only tremble like a lamb at the slaughter.  
“I’m sorry” Yassen whispered and it sounded so genuine and pained that Alex’s mind blanked for moment before he felt the trigger being pulled.  
For a moment his vision went black with fear before he realised, coming back to himself, that nothing had happened. He was alive. He could feel Yassen move above him and watched an empty clip drop into the puddle beside him before there was a voice at his ear.  
“You have incredible luck” He said, and the almost proud surprise in the man’s voice made Alex’s stomach do toxic flips. “I guess I let you live another day. Wait till I’m gone, there is a sniper at your twelve. Do you understand?”  
Alex forced the smallest of nods. He felt the weight shift.  
“Yassen” He gasped, swallowing rain water as he tried not to move. “Will I see you again?”  
He heard the slightest breath of laughter.  
“For both our sakes, I sincerely hope not” 

Alex lay still, too overwhelmed, too breathless to be able to stand.  
He listened to the footsteps retreat before he stood and ran back towards the compound, not stopping until he found Alessandro's men, desperately trying to pull themselves together.  
“Where is he?” Alex asked a boy, hands full of packaged heroin and younger than Alex. It made him feel oddly sick.  
“I-Inside” The boy said, staring at Alex with fear in his eyes.  
Alex shook off his limp and made his way up the rickety stairs into a horrible little rundown building. Alessandro was inside, screaming at his men, black shirt plastered to him in sweat and rainwater, eyes wild with fury. When Alex arrived he turned and paused. The room seemed to still as Alex held the man’s gaze.  
“Why” Alessandro said, voice bowstring tight. “Why did you never tell me you knew Yassen Gregorovich?”  
Alex clenched his jaw, eyes sweeping over the three men, holding machines guns like lifelines and staring at Alessandro like rabid dogs waiting for scraps. He swallowed, feeling one come up behind him.  
“I didn’t think it mattered” Alex blinked, holding the bullet graze on his ribs as it twitched from his frantic breathing.  
“Yes, fuckface, Knowing the most dangerous assassin in the world is a matter that concerns me greatly- How- How are you even alive?” Alessandro asked, nose curling.  
Alex ignored the question. “As far as I knew Gregorovich was dead. I had no idea-”  
“Bullshit!” Alessandro screamed, hand slamming on the wooden table. It wasn’t the action that made Alex jump, it was seeing it from Alessandro, who up until this moment, Alex had classed as a friend.  
“I swear it, Alessandro” Alex raised his hands, keeping his voice low and calm. He felt the all too familiar curl of betrayal in his stomach. He shouldn’t have trusted Alessandro.  
“Dead” Alessandro laughed, kicking a chair over. “Dead? Wow you must be fucking dense, Rider”  
Alex flinched. “I watched him die-”  
“I don’t give a fuck what you saw. How old were you, ten?” He sneered, walking forward. “Do you have any idea how much money you’ve lost me?”  
Alex’s whole body ached from his fight with Yassen and watching this fat little man tell him it was his fault made Alex’s blood boil.  
“I’ve lost you?” Alex shouted. “I did nothing! He shot at me, I dodged-”  
“Don’t you dare fucking lie to me” Alessandro yelled, finger pointed into Alex’s face. “After the shot, the driver saw you running back into the compound.”  
Alex’s jaw dropped. “That was- I was- It-”  
“Yassen’s men took six million dollars worth of Heroin and left because you” Alessandro’s finger drove hard into Alex’s chest. “Left your post. You chickened out.” Alessandro sniffed. “It’s what happens when you get a boy to do a man’s job” Alessandro said to his men, they chuckled.  
Alex blinked. Was this all really his fault? He would have died unless he got to cover, maybe that was what was demanded of him, what Alessandro wanted. He didn’t have time to think on it anymore because Alessandro’s knee was suddenly being embedded in his untensed stomach. It knocked all the air out his lungs at once and made him fall to the ground as he coughed. He felt the men in the room shift, getting a better view. Alessandro’s knee got the side of his head this time, knocking him onto his side. He had time to tense before Alessandro’s shiny black shoe made impact on his abs this time and kept going. Kick after kick, a minute became two and then three and Alex’s vision began to swim. His stomach ached so badly he felt as though his organs were trying to squirm up his throat.  
“Boss-” One man said, Alex heard through the pain.  
But it continued, the foot came down on his cheek, pushing his face into the dusty wood floor. One more harsh kick to the side of his face before he was suddenly hauled to his feet. A gun was suddenly being pushed into his cheek. The fear had worn off after Yassen- you could only have a certain amount of near death experiences in one day before the novelty wore off- and all he felt was a bone deep exhaustion that made him glance up at Alessandro under heavy lashes.  
“You don’t fail me again” The man spat. “Understand?”  
Alex gave a weak nod. It wasn’t good enough and the gun came hard across his cheek, taking the skin off his cheek and making his head buzz. “Understand?” Alessandro screamed.  
“Yes” Alex managed.  
“Yes?” Alessandro pulled the bloodied gun back, ready to strike again.  
“Sir” Alex said, eyes falling shut. “It won’t happen again”  
“Get out the country” Alessandro said, voice loathing, like he couldn’t stand the sight of him. “Meet me in Korea in three days. When Yassen comes for you, you will kill him”  
Alex tensed. “I can’t-”  
“You will” Alessandro snapped, bending down and grimacing at the line of drool and blood that was tumbling out Alex’s split lip. “Either he will kill you or you will kill him but I swear if he gets away” There was a pause. “I will kill you”

Alex got himself to Vietnam and into a cheap hotel by nightfall. He was a mess, with a huge purple bruise across his cheek and a split lip. He had to bend from the pain in his stomach and the bullet wounds on his ribs and calf were close to infection. The hotel room was small, with a tiny bathroom, painted a beige that Alex could tell was meant to be white, not that he could bring himself to care. He stripped and showered with practiced ease, even if he barely suppressed a scream of pain as the spluttery harsh water. The sharpness of the pain helped him focus. Yassen would return for him or so Alessandro thought and if Alex let him escape, Alessandro would kill him. The thought slipped with ease through Alex’s well trained head and as he wrapped his wounds in cheap gauze from a local pharmacy, he considered his options. He could run away, not meet Alessandro or Yassen but he knew all that meant was having them both chase him. Sadly, meeting Alessandro was fast becoming his only option.  
The exhaustion was making it hard to think but Alex found himself unable to sleep. The bed faced a window and whenever Alex’s eyes closed all he could imagine was a bullet coming through the glass. He shifted down, wedging himself between the wall and the bed, careful not to aggravate his wounds and stared up at the chuntering fan above his head. As the day began to settle and Alex began to really process what had happened, he suddenly felt as though there was a pressure on his chest, not letting him up. He recognised vaguely, that he was going into shock but he thought it best to just let it happen. His fingertips began to go numb, his skin itching as though someone was trying to claw out from inside him. He shuddered and tried again to breath easy. He couldn’t. It reminded him oddly, of the first time he was winded. 

He was eight and rock climbing with Ian. They’d been bouldering up a rock face in the english countryside. It had been such an English day too, drizzling and cold, with dew clinging to everything and no sun in sight but Ian had insisted that if they go slow nothing would happen. He’d been 20 feet or so up, with no sense of fear as he followed his uncles footings with practiced ease. Ian would call down every so often to check he was okay or to tell him a different footing for him as he was so much smaller.  
“Careful” Ian said. “It’s slippy here”  
Alex had heard him and for some reason he’d glanced back, seeing the drop underneath him and seeing how far he had to go had sent him reeling with fear. Suddenly he was hyper aware of how slippery it was underfoot, he reached up with trembling hands to the crevice above him. He realised he was trembling for the first time since they started this.  
“Alex?” He’d heard the call.  
“I’m okay” He shouted back, pulling a foot up in a rushed and clumsy movement, filled with a dangerous desperation to get to the top.  
He was falling before he knew it, not even screaming or crying out, shocked into silence by the adrenaline rush that filled him. He’d landed hard on his back in amongst dying foliage and been so terrified by his inability to breath that he’d just thrashed and bucked. Ian was beside him in seconds.  
“Are you okay?” He’d asked, in french then had repeated in Spanish. Pressing a hand to Alex’s chest ever so lightly. Alex shook his head wildly, blinking frantically and squirming as breath eluded him even more.  
“Easy” Ian had swapped back into English seeing the panic in his nephew's eyes. “You’re winded”  
“C-c-can’t-” Alex had tried. “B-br-breath” He’d scrambled at his Uncle’s arms, fingers tense with asphyxiation.  
“Yes you can” Ian had said, utterly calm. “You’re panicking yourself, Alex”  
He shook his head, frustrated and scared, chest rattling as his diaphragm spasemoned. He felt like he was dying and his Uncle seemed so calm about it.  
“Come on” Ian said. “Breath with me”  
He’d tried following Ian’s heavy intakes but found his throat closed and his his heart beat heavy, uncontrolled beats.  
“In with me” Ian said, stern this time. Somehow it worked and Alex dragged in a breath through his nose, out through his mouth. Again and again until his heart slowed and his tears dried.  
“Told you” Ian said. “You’re fine”  
Alex just nodded.  
“Ready to go again?” Ian offered him his water and Alex had stared.  
“I think…I’d like to go home” He’d trembled from the cold, his nose red and runny from crying and the english spring morning. Ian’s face had fallen just a little.  
“Sure? You were really close” Ian winced, pulling Alex to his feet and brushing dirt off himself.  
That ‘sure’ was a tone Alex knew all too well. It was used when he was too tired to sit and go over German, or when he didn’t want to go to Judo anymore. Ian would never tell him he had to go but the disappointment in his Uncle’s voice was enough to make Alex do it anyway.  
“You can do it” Ian said.  
And Alex had.

His own breath was evening out and the memory, as painful as it was now, eased him into a light sleep. He wondered if Ian would tell him he could do it now, sat in a two star Vietnamese Hotel with bullet wounds and a barely healing pistol whip to the jaw. Somehow he doubted his uncle would be proud at all but the words, whether they applied to him anymore or not, still made him warm. 

Korea was somehow hotter than Laos had been. He’d tried to cover up what a mess he was and had managed to slip on a loose white shirt even if it had almost made him comatose with agony. His face was healing a little. By some miracle his cheek hadn’t swollen but it was still an obvious deep purple and his lip still had a wide gash in it. He managed to walk straight without the limp from his stomach. As he walked down the bustling streets of Seoul he checked again for the address. La Meridien was the exact type of 5 star chain hotel he expected to find Alessandro in. The receptionist gave him a key card and and did a good job hiding her shock at the state of him. He made his way up to his room and read the last text he’d received from Alessandro.  
‘Midnight. Roof garden. Don’t be late’  
It was was half eleven and he swallowed nerves as he opened the door to his suite. It was huge and sprawling. The type of place it wouldn’t be bad to take your last supper in, Alex realised. Suddenly he felt, with that 6th sense you developed as a spy, he wasn’t alone. The lights hadn’t switched on, Alex still hung onto the key card in his hand, yet to slot it in.  
“Alessandro?” He called out, his gun was in his bag but he knew he’d draw too much attention to himself by unzipping it in the heavy silent room. There was no response. He clenched his jaw but was unafraid as he made his way towards the bed, tense and ready to fight. It happened in a blur; an arm looped around his neck, pulling him close to the hard body with a perfected gentleness that could only belong to one person.  
“Yassen” He said. The hands on him, one looped around his throat and the other hauling Alex’s arm out straight, had such a reserved strength to them that it made Alex shudder with an odd and desperately out of place desire.  
“You’re shaking” Yassen murmured. The darkness heightened Alex’s senses and made the puff of Yassen’s breath sharp and unbearable against his neck.  
“I’m scared” He said, unsure what made him say it but relishing in the slight release of pressure around his throat. “Alessandro says I have to kill you tonight”  
Yassen let him go and spun round ready to lash out only to find himself staring down the barrel of a gun.  
“And will you do as he asks?” Yassen asked, voice almost contemplative.  
“I don’t know” Alex whispered.  
Yassen stepped forward and Alex stepped back into the pale yellow street light. He watched the shadows play of Yassen’s face as his jaw clenched.  
“Who did that to you?” He sounded so possessive, voice tight with anger as the gun motioned to his face and eyes narrowing to get a better look at the bruise.  
“Alessandro. I lost him a lot of money” Alex said. “I deserved it” He added.  
“Alessandro is dead” Yassen snapped, voice impassive but tone tight. It left no room for misinterpretation as to who killed him.  
Alex felt as though someone had swept the floor out from under him. If Alessandro was dead then Alex didn’t have to kill Yassen. The thought made him weak with relief but if Alessandro was dead then who was employing Alex. Who was taking him for dinner? Talking with him? There for him. Suddenly he felt sick.  
“Why?” Alex’s voice was choked sounding.  
Yassen took a step forward. “You weren’t the only name on that contract”  
Alex suddenly felt alight with rage. “You fucking bastard. Is there anything in my life you can’t ruin? Do you make it your goal to take everything away from me? Everything was fine until you showed up in my life again! Why do you do this? WHy do you always do this to me!-”  
Yassen’s eyes rolled and Alex watched the safety slide off on his gun. “Stop acting like such a child-”  
“I am a child!” Alex roared, trembling with unchecked rage, built up over years- maybe even since the beginning. “Alessandro was my friend-”  
Yassen huffed out a laugh. “He was your master and you were his dog.”  
“And that was good enough for me!” Alex shouted, shaking harder now. “ Who are you to judge? I was- I was-”  
“Happy?” Yassen stepped forward. “Content? Did you enjoy killing for him? Or did you enjoy the praise? Being told, for once, that you did a good job”  
Alex’s retort caught in his throat. After years of working for Mi6, with barely a thank you, after years of school with glances from teachers who thought he was a lazy skiver, after years without any family, without any comfort, four years now without Jack, the weight of it all hit him. It hadn’t been about the money, or about the killing, he’d just wanted to belong. Something strange and foreign and terrifying bubbled up inside him  
He felt unnaturally sick and twisted. His whole body was seemingly exhausted but alight with energy. He felt so wildly out of control that he wondered, for a split second, if Yassen had shot him. “What’s happening? What did you do to me? Am I dying?” He realised, numbly, that there were hot trails rolling down his cheeks, dripping off his chin and making his throat ache. Maybe it was from the beating he took in Laos, maybe something had been punctured, he just hadn’t felt it. He did feel as though his whole body was giving out on him. He jolted with shock as he felt the wetness on his cheeks. This was insane! What could have happened? A poison perhaps. Alex’s breathes were frantic now as he stared at Yassen.  
Yassen just watched, sculpted from marble in the moonlight and as unmoving as a statue. His face painted with just the softest amount of sympathy. He watched as Alex checked for wounds and stepped in.  
“No, Little Alex” he said, quiet into the night but catching Alex’s gaze. “These are only tears. Let them fall”  
Alex dragged in a shallow breath and felt Yassen’s arms circle him. He tensed for a fight before realising that wasn’t the Russians intention. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone hugged him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried.  
The gun pressed into Alex’s back, caught in their embrace. Yassen didn’t say anything but there was an understanding in his touch that didn’t need explanation.  
Alex didn’t know how long he sobbed into Yassen’s T-shirt for, probably too long but by the end he felt much better. His headached from the tears and his nose was running but, he felt infinitely better than he did before. He felt Yassen move, felt the gun press hard against his shoulder blade. He clung on tighter.  
“Don’t!” He cried out. “I don’t want to die”  
Yassen chuckled. Alex could feel it reverberated through him. It was terrifyingly comforting.  
“I never planned on killing you, little Alex”  
The confession made Alex’s head shoot up, catching the cool blue of Yassen’s eyes.  
“But the contract-” Alex shook his head, frowning up.  
“I said I took it, I never said I’d do it but I needed you out of the way to steal those drugs”  
Alex looked away.  
“Alessandro was being hunted by every crime boss out there” Yassen said. “He was an dying animal, no one dared touch him. Authorities were moving in on his business, he needed someone good to take out his enemies and no one would take him up.”  
Alex blinked. “So he used me”  
“He would have been able to tell you didn’t know who he was. You were an easy target, young and naive, desperate for money, no family, well trained. You’ve made a bad name for yourself associating with him” Yassen stepped away from him a little.  
“I didn’t know” Alex said, soft and ashamed.  
“I know you didn’t” Yassen sighed and put a hand against his forehead, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “I can’t kill you, Alex”  
Alex breathed out. “I couldn’t kill you either”  
“Yes” Yassen’s lip curled a little. “That was a spectacularly bad shot you took in Laos. You’ll give yourself tinnitus playing around like that”  
Alex flushed. “Shut up. My finger slipped”  
“You will be hunted. Other will try once they know I left you alive” Yassen handed him a card, a neat dark blue business card, pressing it into his hand. “He uses me a lot but I’ll tell him you’re better. He can’t keep you safe but he can keep you in work. I can’t promise your safety either-”  
“I don’t want you to” Alex said. Clenching his jaw.  
Yassen nodded, curt and cold and just like that, he began to head to the door.  
“Good to see you, Little Alex”  
Alex smiled, although it pained him. There was a pause and Alex was speaking before he could stop himself.  
“Yassen!” He called out. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”  
It left so much unsaid and Alex wished he could articulate how he felt in words but he couldn’t. He found himself staring, trying to convey what he felt with his eyes alone. Yassen seemed to understand.  
He had him pinned in seconds, softer than before but with more intensity. Alex held himself perfectly still under him. He let his eyes wander from Yassen’s gaze to the sharp lines of his cheekbones, the shape of his lips. Yassen’s hand stroked ever so gently over the bruise on Alex’s cheek and Alex shuddered from the shock of it. The touch was unlike anything he could remember feeling and it made him flinch back in shock.  
“You tell me now if you want this” Yassen gripped his chin, seeing him flinch. “If you don’t, I will leave-”  
“I do” Alex’s gaze had become heavy, lashes against his cheek as he stared, flushed, up at Yassen.  
“Do you understand what you’re asking for?” Yassen’s lips brushed over his ear and then down over his jaw. Alex bucked.  
Alex’s body flushed with a heat he had never fully felt before.It left him shaking but he squared his shoulders.  
“I’m young but I’m not that young” He said, voice starting loud but dropping to a whisper as he caught Yassen’s eyes and felt the space between them grow smaller and smaller till it didn’t exist at all. Yassen kissed like he fought, reserved and powerful. He let Alex melt but didn’t then take advantage, only continued more of the same, tongue drawing lazy patterns across Alex’s until the boy felt as though his knees would give out.  
“Stop- stop” Alex said, pushing a hand back and trying to shake the heady dizziness that had settled over him. It was worrying. If Yassen could take him apart that easily with just his mouth god knows what he could do if Alex let him go further. “I just...I just need a minute” Alex let his vision refocus.  
Yassen was watching him carefully. “You’re exhausted”  
“I’m fine” Alex snapped, annoyed that Yassen would think to belittle him at a time like this. The Russian merely shrugged.  
“I’d be exhausted if I were you” He held Alex’s gaze. “Emotional trauma always hurts more than physical...and the both at once is tiring”  
Alex felt himself bristle. “I’m not traumatized” He muttered, though the tear tracks had yet to dry on his cheeks. He felt silly, standing in front of the man he should be blaming for all of this and taking comfort in the idea that he was somehow proud of him. He was sick. “I’ve seen worse”  
Yassen’s hand touched his back ever so softly but the touch made Alex oddly irritable and he pushed it off.  
“I want you to lie down” Yassen said, soft but demanding.  
“Why, so you can kill me?” Alex spat, sarcastic but acrid. It was so uncalled for that even he was shocked with himself. Yassen closed his eyes, jaw clenching for a moment. His patience was wearing thin.  
“So you can sleep” Every word was ice cold.  
Alex wanted to say something witty, something that would help him feel more incontrol but instead all he managed was a quiet and broken “I can’t”  
Yassen didn’t ask but he turned back to Alex and pushed his shoulders down until Alex felt himself sit on the bed.  
“Why?” Yassen’s tone was no different but somehow Alex could tell Yassen was warmer, softer.  
“I don’t know…” Alex rubbed his arm, feeling awkward, like he always did with his physiatrist. “At first it was just the nightmares but recently I can’t even close my eyes. It’s like beds are just...I don’t know. I hate it”  
Yassen considered this and then, seemingly randomly, asked “When was the last time anyone touched you?”  
Alex blinked up in confusion, feeling slightly affronted. “You, about five minutes ago” He snarked.  
“Alex” The tone left no room for discussion. Alex looked away. When was the last time he was touched? Alessandro had touched his shoulder in Laos- but then he’d almost killed him. Before that, Sabina had- No, she hadn’t. Alex had shied away from her goodbye hug three months ago. He couldn’t remember being intimate with anyone since Jack, even then they hadn’t touched often. Had Ian? The memories were too hazy now to truly remember and those that remained had been contorted by knowledge of what he’d done, what he’d made Alex into. Yassen stroked his arm to get his attention but Alex, jolted violently out of his musing, grabbed Yassen’s arm hard and hauled it away. The place where the hand had been tingled unpleasantly and Alex almost reached out to scratch it.  
“Does it scare you?” Yassen asked softly. Alex just stared, chest heaving and eyes wide, terrified of being attacked. “Affection. Being closed to someone.” Yassen elaborated. “Being touched”  
“I don’t like not being alert.” Alex said.  
“You find it disarming?” Yassen tilted his head, sitting beside Alex on the bed in a fluid graceful motion.  
“It is disarming” He huffed. “And overrated too. The only people that have touched me recently are people that have attacked me”  
“Do you associate touch with pain?” Yassen was close now but not enough to put Alexa on his guard.  
“Do you not?” Alex laughed bitterly. Yassen did smile at that and nodded a little in understanding.  
“But I grew up with a Mother and a Father” Yassen said. “I know what’s like to be loved”  
Alex felt torn. He was surprised Yassen would open up like that to him, there was a vulnerability to the words that made Alex feel privileged but Alex didn’t like what they implied.  
“People love me, Yassen” He snapped.  
“Who?” Yassen sounded amused and leaned back, lying out across the bed like a big cat, pleased with itself. Alex thought for a moment and came up with a blank. Oh.  
“People loved me” Alex amended and turned, staring at the flat planes of Yassen’s stomach on show now he was lying down. The sereness, the openness in how Yassen was acting left Alex oddly angry. He had no right. “What does it matter to you? Why are you even asking me all this? What does it have to do with anything? So what if I don’t trust anyone, so what if I’m alone. You’re the same” Alex stood, pacing as he shouted. Yassen sat up and looked over Alex but his eyes closed before Alex had a chance to work out what he wanted.  
“Because I care about you” Yassen said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “You are hurting and you are alone and I want to help. I don’t want you to end up like me”  
“If you wanted to help me you shouldn’t have killed Alessandro”  
“Alessandro was a pig” Yassen spat and it was the most emotional thing he’d said all evening. The russian’s nose curled like he’d smelt something bad and his body seemed tense. “He didn’t deserve you”  
Alex felt itchy all over. His body seemed to want Yassen, seemed to react to every word the man said in a way Alex couldn’t control but his head was screaming how stupid it would be to trust the man. But Yassen had never actually hurt him, had he?  
“You-” He swallowed. “Before, you died you said-” he was tearing up. “You said you loved me”  
It was Yassen’s turn to look uncomfortable and his eyes fell away from Alex’s. Alex could remember the words as clear as day yet he couldn’t believe them, not when only two days ago Yassen had pulled a trigger against his head.  
“I meant it” Yassen said. “I still mean it”  
Alex sniffed. “You don’t know what you did to me...telling me all that then dying on me”  
He clutched his knees to his chest but gasped as it hurt the bruises. Yassen’s head whirled around.  
“What happened?” Yassen asked.  
“Nothing”  
But Yassen was already trying to pull the hem of his shirt up. Alex recoiled once more before his body betrayed him and inched, without Alex’s consent, ever so slightly closer to Yassen.  
“Please” Was all he said, unsure what he was asking for. Yassen moved to his bag, leaned up gently against the small bedside table. The broadness of the man’s shoulders made it hard for Alex to see what he reached for but in seconds he worked it out. Yassen launched at him and with very little effort at all secured Alex’s hands to the headboard with cable ties.  
“Yassen!” He shouted. Betrayal coursed through him like a poison. It was like being shoved under freezing water, coming so close to opening up only to be tricked again. Alex was beginning to think relationships were overrated and then Yassen kissed him again.  
It was hypnotic, hot and insistent. At first Alex tried to tilt his head out of the way, tried to convince himself that this wasn’t nice but he wanted it, needed it so badly that his touch-starved body was having none of his protests. Yassen was here and alive and kissing him, for god's sake, it should be some sick dream come true. He began to relax, letting the heat wash over him until he was subdued, almost purring into Yassen’s mouth. Yassen’s looked over his stomach, warm hands putting Alex at ease as he caught his breath.  
“You’re lucky” Yassen pressed on a dark yellow bruise with clinical care and Alex breathed in sharply. “He could have done serious damage”  
“You could have just asked to see” Alex gasped, tilting his head back.  
“You wouldn’t have let me” Yassen smiled. It was true. They were both too wary of each other to trust the other fully.  
“Yassen” Alex tried. “I don’t know what I want” He pulled a little at his restraints.  
Yassen spread his shirt open, fingers trailing over Alex like he couldn’t stop himself. He nodded but didn’t answer, as though the feeling of Alex’s skin had stolen his voice. Alex gasped, toes curling, as Yassen brushed his thumbs over Alex untouched nipples.  
“My” The russian whispered. “You are sensitive”  
Alex was hard, so hard it was dizzying and he ground helplessly up into the air as Yassen continued his assault. He spread palms, tongue and tooth, work roughened fingers tips all over Alex’s virgin skin and drank in the almost pained cries he was tearing from Alex’s throat. Alex on the other hand, was seeing stars. It was so completely alien to him, this whole idea of intimacy, that Yassen’s barest touches were sending him spiralling.  
“Yassen” He whispered frantically. “Yassen” He tried again. He was overwhelmed, hardly able to think and grinding helplessly into Yassen’s well placed thigh. He was going to cum soon. For a moment he’d be so out of it he’d be completely defenseless. The thought made the red hot pleasure in his veins turn to ice and with one kick he managed to knock Yassen of him. The tremors of pleasure still rippled across his skin and there was a tight unbearable heat between his legs.  
“Why do you do this to yourself” Yassen murmured, concerned but flushed. Alex shuddered, Yassen was in the same position as him.  
“Don’t-Can’t let go” Alex managed between pants.  
“Yes” Yassen said, hand pressing against the outline of his cock against his jeans. Alex cried out, arching up. “You can”  
Alex’s open eyes fell shut of their own accord and he arched and squirmed until Yassen snaked a hand into his boxers and gripped him properly.  
“What are you so afraid of?” Yassen leaned over him, engulfing him in heat as he quickened his pace. “You’re terrified of letting people in” Yassen moved his mouth over Alex’s ear. “Terrified of being hurt again because you always get hurt.”  
A pained sobbed left Alex’s throat at the truth of it but the pleasure was coiling, unrelenting inside him.  
“People leave you, don’t they Alex?” Yassen’s voice was so soothing, even if the words he spoke were painful. “Whether they want to or not, you always end up alone. It feels hopeless. I know because I’m the same. I lose everyone I care about, whether I want to or not”  
Alex buried his head in Yassen’s chest and let his hips buck up against Yassen’s hands desperately, choking on sobs and moans alike.  
“But I haven’t lost you” Yassen said against his ear. “And I don’t want to. I wasn’t lying when I said I loved you. Let go, little Alex, and I’ll catch you. You have my word”  
Alex came so hard, half from the words and half from the touch, that for a moment he thought he might have passed out. Yassen held him close as he shuddered and gasped, stroked his hair and murmured words Alex didn’t have the ability to understand in his ear. When he came to, dizzy and sated and altogether disarmed, Yassen just smiled and gently rubbed his bruise on his cheek.  
“How do you feel?” Yassen asked softly.  
Alex tried to speak but no words came out and he blinked in shock. “I..” he tried. “Good” he settled on. Yassen smiled and stared at him with soft blue eyes. Their lips met again, soft and slow. Alex was too tired to kiss back and Yassen seemed content to let the boy brush softly over his lips but every brush became slower, slower still until Yassen realised, with a slow and heavy smile, that Alex had fallen asleep. 

Alex awoke to find his arms free, lying over his head and his body spread comfortably across the bed. His head buzzed with a full and heavy sleepiness that he hadn’t felt in years. Furthermore, under the warmth of the heavy duvet, the crisp cool sheets, Alex felt something else. Yassen. He was lying beside Alex, also asleep. His feature were gentler, the sharpness of his cheekbones and the set of his brow looked less imposing now he was unguarded but to Alex it reminded him to much of the way Yassen had looked on air force one. The pale midnight moon even painted him a similar white colour. Yassen stirred and his eyes flashed open with an alertness that Alex recognised from himself. Sleep could be such a dangerous thing.  
“You’re awake” Yassen said, sitting up on a elbow. His hands were already roaming over Alex, gentle but desperate. Alex wondered how much of his unfulfilled desire was probably mirrored in Yassen. He couldn’t imagine Yassen with a girlfriend or anyone for that matter but the man knew what he was doing. It was confusing. Then again, everything about Yassen was.  
“I thought you might have left” Alex stretched, yawning as Yassen dragged his hands down his sides. He’d woken up hard again but felt too embarrassed to tell Yassen, who hadn’t actually expressed any desire of his own yet.  
“After what I did?” Yassen let out a breath of laughter. “I wouldn’t do that to you”  
It felt oddly surreal and for one horrible moment Alex feared he might be dreaming. He’d wake up in Laos and Yassen would still be dead.  
“This is too good to be true” Alex murmured.  
Yassen stroked his neck, voice taking on that incredibly Russian lilt. “You’re still worrying about all that?”  
“I’m worried this is some trap” Alex bit his nail, gnawing it softly.  
“I’m not cruel” Yassen stated and Alex couldn’t dispute that. “If I was going to kill you, you would be dead”  
Alex suddenly noticed that his clothes were gone and with a jolt, sat up in confusion.  
Yassen’s laugh was so genuine and happy that Alex’s head whipped round.  
“You took them off about an hour ago.” The man stated.  
“I did?” Alex asked. Yassen nodded.  
“You were hot”  
Alex lay back but in doing so brushed against Yassen. Who, with his ability to notice everything, instantly noticed how hard Alex had become. An arm looped around Alex’s waist, strong and stable but not overly muscular. Yassen had beautiful muscles, built like a dancer but with the strength of a bodybuilder and Alex would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about touching them more than once.  
“You should have said” Yassen said, sliding his thigh between Alex’s legs. Alex noticed that Yassen had also stripped down to his boxers and the slide of skin on skin for the first time in Alex’s life made him tremble hard.  
“Didn’t know how to” Alex murmured, eyes glazed as he tilted his head up to meet Yassen’s eyes. Alex leaned up, emboldened by the desire that he saw there and bit ever so slightly on Yassen’s lip. He let his hands trail over the Russian’s body, dipping into every rib, feeling out every over pronounced muscle and enjoying the feeling of it ripple under him.  
“You’re tempting me, Little Alex” Yassen growled, catching Alex’s hands. Alex glanced up and saw then, the unparalleled desire in Yassen’s eyes. He realised dimly, that it had always been there.  
“Take what you want” Alex murmured. “Please” he added, glancing up and clutching Yassen’s shoulders.  
Yassen did. Alex found himself on his front in an instant. Yassen trailed hot, open mouthed kisses down Alex’s spine, hands holding Alex’s sides and manipulating his body whichever way he wanted. Alex’s legs trembled but he sat himself up on his knees, head still buried in the pillow. He heard Yassen swear in Russian and felt his chest tingle at the thought of ruining Yassen Gregorovich’s impeccable self control.  
Teeth dragged across the sensitive skin of his tailbone and Alex let out a breathy cry. Yassen’s hands were trailing over his ass now, across and under his thighs until Alex was letting out a litany of pleas just to get Yassen to touch him.  
“Patience” Yassen murmured and did something that almost broke Alex’s fragile world in two. Yassen dragged his tongue from just under Alex’s balls up to his tailbone. The feeling wrecked him, it was so jarring and so, so unbearably pleasant that Alex began to shake.  
“God, Yassen” He cried.  
Yassen just chuckled and pressed a wet finger into Alex. Alex thought it might be sore, might be too much but to his surprise he just felt pleasure, red hot, fill him further. One finger became two and Alex found himself pushing up into everything Yassen offered.  
He could barely remember the terror of the last few days. He could barely remember his own name. All that mattered was Yassen and the man seemed to like it that way. Something hot and blunt and much larger than the fingers pressed against him.  
“Yassen-” He choked on the word but whatever complaint he had died when Yassen pushed into him. It was a perfect hell. For a moment, Alex could admit it was agony but as the pain subsided and Alex began to feel the pleasure of it all he gasped and shook.  
Yassen began to move and in one fluid motion spun Alex round and over his hips. The change in position made Alex slid deeper onto Yassen’s cock and his eyes widened, breath knocked out of him, at how shockingly good it felt.  
“Faster, Yassen” He pleaded, voice loud and desperate. “Please” He cried.  
It was a war inside him. The fear and the shame, his inability to give up his control fighting tooth and nail against the sinking, drowning pleasure and affection Yassen was showering him with. This was so dangerous, for both of them. Yet, they were both here, giving and taking in equal measure and unafraid of the consequence. The war was over and Alex was suddenly and unabashedly putty in Yassen’s hands.  
Yassen slowed his thrusts, taking Alex’s breath away on every push and pull. Yassen was panting, holding Alex’s hips and watching him with unadulterated adoration that made desire roll across Alex. It sped up quickly until Alex was almost screaming Yassen’s name, eyes rolled back and head lolled.  
Yassen bit into Alex’s shoulder and a cry of pure ecstasy was ripped from Alex’s throat as Yassen came.  
“Yassen...” Alex fought for breath and stared down, eyes unfocused and hazy and hands on Yassen’s jaw . Yassen took a moment to catch his breath before he threw Alex back. Alex landed with a thump against the sheets and let his lust heavy limbs splay out beside him. Yassen was between his legs in seconds, tongue doing unspeakably sinful things to Alex until with a cry, Alex came again.  
He lay in the afterglow, heart thundering and swallowed.  
“Ha...God Yassen” He closed his eyes and smiled, lying still and letting the sweat dry on his skin. Yassen pulled him close and propped him against the pillows. Alex was too fucked out of it to care about the fuck Yassen was babying him. It felt nice, to have someone care about him.  
“This…” He blinked, coming back to himself a little. “This could get us both killed”  
Yassen nodded. “Believe me, Little Alex. Dying is not so bad”  
Alex laughed and curled himself onto the broad expanse of Yassen’s chest.  
“So I can’t work for Mi6 and in my first few months of being an Assassin I fucked that up to” Alex shook his head.  
“Well, you pulled the trigger” Yassen said. “Which is more than I could do at that age”  
Alex looked up, surprised. “Really?”  
Yassen smiled a little, though it was tight and sad. “Yes”  
There was a heavy pause before Yassen stretched. “I have to be on a flight to Burma at nine tomorrow”  
Another pause and Alex moved himself away a little, feeling suddenly awkward and slightly adrift.  
“Care to join me?”  
Alex thought for a moment. He thought of Alessandro, the sick and lonely nights he spent waiting for orders, he thought of Mi6 and their demands and their blackmail. He thought of Yassen with his moral and unshakeable calm, of his warm skin and gentle touch. He thought of how suddenly and utterly complete he felt. 

“I’d love to”


End file.
